Cujo III Reloaded – This Time It's Personal
Chapter 11
Here's the next. A bit sooner than the last but still not very timely. Finally had to hide at the library to get it done. Thank you all so much for your lovely reviews. I hope the story is keeping your interest and I sincerely appreciate any feedback.
Errors can be blamed on Imaginary Beta. Hopefully she didn't miss too many but she's just coming out of an ice cream coma. Will have to get her into rehab for that nasty rocky-road addiction.
Disclaimer: Still no income derived from this flight of fantasy. Actually, my fantasy flight would be the one that takes me to Hawaii so that I can begin my new career as a professional stalker.
*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*
Puppet?
After their earlier conversation, Steve hadn't said another word on the drive back. He sat with his head laid back on the headrest; placing a hand over eyes squinted shut when they rolled through a brightly lit intersection. Even through closed lids, the brief flash of brightness was enough to be painful and his stomach was again threatening to revolt.
"How much worse is that headache?"
"Danny, I told you, I'm fine! I just need to get some sleep and tomorrow I'll be okay."
Danny knew Steve was feigning a sound state of health; evidence of course being that he got to drive his own car without so much as a peep of protest from his control-freak friend. Even in the light available from the sources they passed, he could see that Steve was very pale, making the bruise on the side of his face look even worse.
"Don't mind me saying Rambo but you look like something a cat wouldn't even bother to bury in a litterbox let alone drag in."
Steve only snorted in annoyance. He hadn't told his partner that for the last couple of hours. The double vision had returned and his head felt as though someone was driving a spike through it. He'd put up only token protest when his 2IC took it upon himself to order everyone home to rest. He didn't fight over the keys to the Camaro either.
Finally pulling into his partner's driveway and parking behind the behemoth of a truck that was McGarrett's, Danny cut the engine and said, "Come on, let me make sure you take your meds before you collapse for the night and then I'll go home."
Steve grumbled as he unfolded himself out of the Camaro. As before, he probably wouldn't even be able to read the labels on the bottles so maybe it's a good thing Danny was here to dispense the pills. He'd just guessed at the number he was required to take this morning; figuring only one each wouldn't be any sort of overdose. Maybe he hadn't taken enough?
The night had finally cooled and a thick layer of dew gave up its damp hold to drip off the edges of the shrubbery and the overhang of the porch. A big fat drop hit him on the back of the neck as he fumbled with his house keys, pulling them out of his pocket and feeling for the right one before taking two somewhat unsteady steps up onto the porch. He shivered whether from exhaustion or the cold splat of water he didn't know. He had success on the second unsteady try at inserting the key and the lock clicked. He pushed the door open as Danny quickly stepped around him to the security alarm's touch pad to enter the code to disarm it before it timed out. Besides annoying crap out of the neighbors, if the alarm went off right now, Steve was certain it would cause his head to explode with its screeching.
"Hey!" called the detective from beside the doorway, "You didn't even set it! What good does it do to have an alarm system if one doesn't set the friggin' alarm Einstein?" he admonished, reprimand threatening to turn into rant.
"Not now, Danny." said McGarrett as he tossed his keys onto the table by the door, wincing at the loud clinking sound before tiredly clumping into the living room.
Cujo was sitting on the couch and blinking up at them sleepily before letting out a loud meow in greeting. He jumped down and trotted forward to wind his lithe body around his human's legs. Steve automatically reached down to pick him up but lost his balance and went down to one knee as he scrabbled for something to hold onto.
"Hey!" said Danny quickly grabbing onto his partner's arm to keep him from toppling over the rest of the way.
"I'm okay. Just a little dizzy that's all." said the tall man who latched onto his partner's proffered arm as though a life preserver.
"Yeah, okay he says." huffed the blonde. "Okay means you can stand upright instead of collapsing like a marionette who's had his strings cut. That doesn't seem to be the case here Babe."
"Can't you just say puppet?"
"No, that might mean something else entirely."
"What?"
He'd already let go of his partner's arm but another wave of dizziness made him reach for the high back of a side chair. Steve thought it was a subtle move but it didn't escape his observant friend.
"Never mind, just try to keep from landing on your face again. Adding to those bruises currently decorating it would not enhance your apparently inextinguishable charm. Even Mini the county offices lady would have second thoughts about a guy who's starting to look like someone used him as a piñata."
Head pounding in time with his heart, Steve couldn't think of a rejoinder as Cujo chirped worriedly at their feet and then stood on hind legs to paw at Steve. The little cat seemed concerned but maybe he was only trolling for dinner.
"See, even your piranha thinks you shouldn't be falling over like the tower in a losing round of Jenga."
"So first I'm a marionette then I'm a stack of little wooden logs? You really gotta get your metaphors under control brah."
"Yeah, whatever Rambo. Just plant it somewhere before you fall on your ass."
"I'm fine dammit! Stop hovering!" said the tall man as he regained his balance to proceed with a slightly unsteady gait toward the kitchen.
"I knew you shouldn't have gone to work! Why the hell couldn't you just stay home and rest like a normal person? Never mind, don't answer that. I used the word 'normal'; it obviously doesn't apply here."
"Just lost my balance, that's all. No big deal. I'm fine Danny." muttered a very annoyed McGarrett; annoyed that he'd lost his balance and annoyed at his partner's, to him, smothering concern.
Steve huffed in dismissal but as he took another step there was a slight wobble to it. Danny, of course, didn't miss it.
"That's it!" said Danny, "You've got yourself a house guest for another night whether you like it or not. If you can't even walk without training wheels, someone needs to make sure you get some rest and, you know, recover or something."
Steve, mostly in defiance, stood up as straight as possible and with as much dignity as possible made his way to the kitchen; Danny shadowing him just in case of a repeat of his attempted face-plant.
"Would you please quit following me like a yapping poodle!"
"Poodle? You think I'm a poodle?" Danny looked highly offended- apparently by the comparison to a fluffy dog - but the 'yapping' part wasn't new. Steve had accused him of it many times previously.
"No, not a poodle." amended the tall man. "Maybe one of those terriers. You know, the ones that don't know that most of the rest of the world is bigger than they are but they keep at it anyway." McGarrett smiled, despite the pounding in his head.
"Well, excuse me all to hell for trying to make sure that my best friend, who's got to be the most stubborn fucking mule on the face of the earth by-the-way, won't fall over unconscious and injure himself - yet again!"
"Danny . . . "began McGarrett, horrified to hear the word come out of his own mouth as a sort of Gracie-like whine. When did he turn into a ten-year old?
"Danny? What?" snorted the detective, "Danny thank you for worrying that I don't go into a coma? Danny, thank you for making sure I don't die in my sleep? Danny, thank you for driving my concussed ass home? What is it?"
Knowing he would get nowhere with his belligerent, (rightly so), partner; the SEAL finally just settled on a simple "Thank you."
"Well," huffed the blonde, "If you wanna put it that way . . . you're welcome."
Taking Steve's arm, he tugged him the rest of the way into the kitchen to park him in one of the chairs at the small table. "Stay!" he said as he went to the cupboard to get a glass and fill it with water from the tap.
Picking up the two prescription bottles that still sat on the counter, he double checked the dosages for each one and shook out the appropriate quantity of pills into his palm before returning to his more than thrashed looking partner.
"Take these." he ordered in his best stern Daddy Danny voice as he handed the meds and the water to the tired looking man.
"Yes sir." said Steve with a small smile as he threw the pills into his mouth and chased them with several gulps of water.
"Those pain pills are gonna kick-in in a few minutes and knock you on your ass so you need to get said ass into bed before you fall asleep sitting up. I'm not gonna carry you. You're still too damned heavy."
"Have to take care of Cujo first." sighed Steve getting ready to get up to go find the cat's water dish and food bowl to replenish them. As they'd been engaged in their 'discussion' the little grey cat had been anxiously winding around the legs of the chair and giving short distressed sounding little chirps.
"I can do that, just get up to bed before you fall over. If you think you're going to work tomorrow buddy, think again."
Danny was surprised when Steve only nodded and began to carefully make his way toward the stairs. Calling over his shoulder as he ascended toward his room, he said, "Danny, you have to scoop the litter box too. If it goes for one more day, he'll stage a protest by taking a dump under the coffee table. Trust me, you don't want that."
"Of course I have to clean up after the little monster!" muttered the detective under his breath. "First I have to look after one animal and then take care of the other. What have I done in a past life that makes this one so friggin' miserable?"
Torn between his concern for his chosen human and getting fed, Cujo had decided not to follow Steve to the bedroom. The little cat sat curiously observing the loud man. He even talked to himself when his human wasn't in the room. That was strange. Usually, there had to be another human in the room to talk to. He wondered if the loud man ever didn't talk. Maybe just when he was asleep?
Stopping his pondering over the strange behavior of humans, he began to meow loudly to be fed. It didn't matter who fed him, he just wanted food now!
"Hold your horses you little bastard. I'm getting your dinner." Growled Danny going to the cupboard he knew held assorted tins of cat food. Pulling open the cabinet door, he wasn't really surprised to find them arranged on the shelf alphabetically by flavor. "Oh, Steven . . . " he said to himself as he felt Cujo roughly bumping his legs. The fractious animal had even begun the threatening sounds he liked to make when he wanted something in a hurry.
It was later than usual this time and he was really hungry. Perhaps a nip on the ankle would make the man move faster?
"Hey! No you don't! If you bite me, you'll never see the contents of a Friskies can again! I'm not the friggin' Cat Lady. If you wanna eat, you're going to have to wait for me to put this disgusting stuff into a dish."
Keeping an eye on the cat that hovered around his feet as he hurried to plop the gross looking mush, (or paté as it was so named on the label), into Cujo's dish, he quickly took the earthenware bowl and placed it onto the plastic placemat by the back door. It's a wonder he only has a placemat, SuperSEAL is such a neat freak, there's probably a napkin and finger-bowl somewhere as well, thought the detective.
The cat quickly stopped his threats and dived at the dish, purring loudly as he became engrossed in his dinner.
Okay, onto the next chore . . .
He went to the broom closet and found the sack of kitty litter and the slotted scoop. He was unfortunately familiar with this chore. He and Rachel had a cat once and it was a sweet-natured thing that Danny didn't mind taking care of. Unfortunately, they hadn't had her spayed in time and had wound up with a large batch of kittens to find homes for. Rachel herself had gotten pregnant by the time the last kitten was safely in a new home and Danny had just read an article about toxoplasmosis – a disease that could be transmitted by cat feces to pregnant women with sometimes disastrous results. He knew he may be overreacting but he wasn't going to take any chances.
He also found a home for the mother cat, (after making sure she'd been spayed). He still got Christmas cards from the little girl who'd taken her. The girl was about to graduate high school and the damned cat was probably ancient in cat years but was still kicking. That made him wonder how much longer he was going to be tortured by his partner's evil little wolverine. With his luck, Satan's Spawn would live to be ninety.
Cujo had finished his meal and sat watching curiously as the loud man began the task his human usually took care of. He watched carefully as though making sure the loud man did the job to his approval. He liked a clean place to do his business. If it wasn't clean, he used the place under the flat thing with legs. It was strange how quickly his box with the crunchy ground in it became clean after that. The tall man also seemed very annoyed with him for some reason. Oh well.
"What the hell have you been eating!" gagged Danny as he finished scooping the last of the litter and tied a knot into the plastic bag he'd dumped it in before going to the back door and dropping it into the lidded can than sat right outside. "Ugh! They could weaponize that stuff!"
Cujo only sat looking at him before beginning his post meal bath, making sure to carefully clean his ears and whiskers. The man never stopped talking!
….
He watched from the window as the black and white slowly rolled past the coffee shop. It was only about fifteen minutes since it had been by the last time.
Someone must have figured out his choice of targets. That wasn't good.
Now, maybe he'd have to find another way to make people pay attention. It wasn't daylight yet. He sat contemplating his intended target for a moment. He knew there were other venues for his campaign. There were other coffee shops. It was just that this one seemed to be a locus for those who were lured by the evils of technology. He'd even bet that most of them had never even touched the sensuous surface of a patinaed leather binding, never inhaled the heady aroma of knowledge on the printed page. It was a shame. There were missing so much.
He put the Prius into gear and silently glided away from the scene. He'd have to talk to Kiki. She'd know what to do.
…..
The morning had dawned misty but warm. Danny finished setting up the coffee pot and scribbled his notes before grabbing up the keys and striding toward the door, a small cat trotting behind him.
"No you don't. I'm not the kitty chauffeur today. You're staying with the Cat Lady. Your mission should you chose to accept it is to keep your idiot owner from leaving the house." He wasn't sure exactly who owned who but he'd used the word anyway. The cat actually seemed to be listening to him.
Cujo stared up at him curiously as the loud man did the same; staring back at the little cat before him.
"Why am I talking to you again? It's not like you'd cooperate even if you could understand me. Your 'mission' since we met has been to make me your own personal chew toy. Besides, getting a cat to do anything you want it to is like getting Steve to pay attention to procedure or wait for back-up. No wonder you two get along so well."
"Later fence-rabbit." he said as he strode toward the door, making sure to set the alarm as he left. "Keep the Neanderthal here and in one piece, huh." He called back over his shoulder to the little feline sitting at the door.
Did the loud man ever stop talking?
…..
He stretched and turned over; eyes searching for the digital display of his alarm clock that usually sat on the nightstand. Not finding it for some reason, he fumbled for his watch that should have been sitting there as well.
Okay, his drug addled mind reasoned, Danny had taken the clock out of the room. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and blinked sleepily toward the light that knifed through the small gap in the drapes. It was awfully bright.
Shit. As his mind began to function once again, he realized it must be nearly noon. Still not wanting to actually stare into such brightness just in case his headache should return, he staggered from the bed toward the bathroom.
….
Kono rummaged through her desk drawer looking for the thumb drive she knew must be in there. She hadn't seen it for a couple of days but hadn't bothered to look for it. If any of the guys found it and opened it to see what was on it . . . well, it would be embarrassing to say the least. "It must be here somewhere!" she muttered as she blew her wayward locks out of her eyes.
There'd actually been quite a few things that had gone missing lately: her puka shell bracelet that her aunt had given her, the hair clip, oh yeah and her favorite pen. She knew the guys would be loath to wander off with it since it was bright pink and had glittery rhinestones on its cap. Hmm.
….
Kiki saw the number that came up on the I.D. screen and frowned. He wasn't supposed to be calling her. If anyone ever caught on, they'd both be in a shitload of trouble.
Taking the phone outside to the deserted office patio, she sat in one of the metal chairs under an umbrella and hit the accept button.
"Baby, why are you calling?" she asked trying to sound as though it was a welcome interruption.
"I . . . I . . . I think they've found out!" came the panicky stammer.
"What! What makes you think they've found out!" talk about panic! Kiki could feel her heart speed up.
"There . . . there was a patrol car that came bye just as I pulled up to the next place. It slowed down and shined one of those lights all around the building before it left then it came back again a few minutes later and did the same thing!"
"They didn't see you did they?" she asked, trying to ignore the tightening in her stomach. Even though the guy was practically her puppet, he was crazy enough to blow this all to hell.
"No, I don't think so. Nobody was following me. I was very careful."
"Just sit tight baby. We'll work this out. You can't stop now. You still have a job to do. Remember, you and I are a team baby."
"Oh . . . okay. I know you feel the same way I do Kiki. I know you won't let me get caught but this . . . this just kind of threw me a bit."
"Don't worry baby. You know I'll protect you." she purred reassuringly, God, this guy was a nut case, "We have a deal right? I'll get in touch with my sources and see if they've figured anything out. I'm sure it's nothing to worry about. Just wait for me to call you. I'll let you know what I find out."
Touching the 'end' icon, she set the phone on the table and reached into her pocket for her pack of Marlborough Lights. It was a nasty and increasingly expensive habit but right now she needed a puff. Taking the engraved lighter out of her pocket, she lit up; glancing toward the doorway that leads to the office. This was a no smoking area but members of the outlaw band of nicotine addicts would still sneak out here when they got a chance to take a quick hit. Just let one of those 'No Smoking' Nazis say something to her right now. She wasn't in a good mood to say the least. Now she was worried. Picking up the phone once again, she dialed Mickey.
*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*
For a change, actually have an idea as to what's going into the next chapter. Not promising anything but the update should be a bit sooner provided husband, ninja cats, and RL stay off my back.
Reviews would be most encouraging.